Don't Go in the Basement
by MightySwordPen
Summary: In the basement of every Countries home lives a secret that no one dares to talk about...until now. 2P!Hetalia
1. In the Basement Lives a

**Notes: **So, the other day I found out about the 2P!Hetalia characters and I fell in love with them the second I saw them. Then, this story came to mind and I just had to write it!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or 2P!Hetalia

* * *

**Chapter One: In the Basement Lives A….**

It was a few years ago when _they _began to appear. At first, it was only one. He went by the name of Arthur. Then, others followed. Alfred, Feliciano, Ivan, Kiku; each one an exact mirror image of the real Countries except, there was something different about them that no one could place a finger one.

Of course, they looked a bit different. Antonio had a slightly darker skin tone that Spain and Gilbert's eye color was more of a purple shade than Prussia's red but, that didn't matter. And the personalities were a bit off as well. Feliciano was braver and less cowardly than Italy and Alfred was meaner and brasher about things that America.

But still, no one cared. There was still something off about them though…

And, they seemed harmless. When England met Arthur, the newer version seemed to have made him cupcakes. Ludwig taught Germany a few new training moves. Matthew gave Canada new pancake recipes that not even the other new about.

They all seemed perfectly harmless.

Until that one day when everything took a turn for the worst...

* * *

"Arthur, I'm home. Did you clean up your mess from this morning?"

England had just gotten home from a World Meeting. He had left Arthur, the other _England, _home alone instead of taking him to the meeting like all the other times he had; England though that he was responsible enough to take care of himself for a few hours.

Peeking into the kitchen, England saw that Arthur wasn't there but, his cupcake mess was surely gone. After living with Arthur for a few months, England soon realized that the other seemed to have a thing for cupcakes; he didn't mind it at all, in fact the cupcakes that he was given were quite delicious, better than the ones America tried to get him to eat.

"I wonder where he could have run off too…" England hummed, checking in the other rooms. He found no one in the living area, or the dining room. Arthur wasn't upstairs in his bedroom or England's nor, was he in the bathroom or library. The only other place that England could think of that the other could be was England's Study.

But, he always kept that door locked.

He decided to check it out anyway; maybe he had forgotten to lock it last night and Arthur didn't hear him leave this morning so, the other decided to bring him up some tea or such and didn't realize that he was gone.

"Arthur, are you in here? I've checked the whole bloody house and I'm starting to get worried-"

As soon as he opened the door (he was right, he must have forgotten to lock it) something slammed into him, pushing him against the wall. A cold, metallic object was pressed up against his neck and he froze.

"Don't move old chap, you might get a nasty cut if you try anything."

England brought his eyes up to look at the man who held him and gasped.

"A-Arthur?"

Arthur laughed. It was maniacal and England couldn't help but feel a tad bit afraid. "No, the Queen! Yes, it's me! Who else?"

"B-but, I don't understand! Why?"

"Oh, well you see our goal is quite simple really," Arthur began, pushing the knife against England's throat, just enough to start a little trickle of blood going. "We, the _others, _wish to rule your world. Ours was destroyed and we wish to be in charge again."

England squeezed his eyes shut as the knife dug more into his skin. "W-we were nothing but nice to you all and this is how you thank us?"

"You are correct, _England_," Arthur hissed the name like it was poison on his tongue. "You were nice to me, you all were nice to each one of us but, sadly, this is in our nature. We kill for what we want and what we want, is to replace you all as the Countries and gain immortality," he bent over and whispered into England ear, "And there is nothing you can do about it."

England groaned. "W-well see about that!"

It took only a few short moments for England's words to click in Arthur's mind but, by that time, it was too late. England had already kicked him in the crotch, causing the other to fall to the ground. He let go of the knife and watched as England quickly stepped on it and picked it up, pointing it directly at Arthur's face.

"Don't you ever try and mess with a former pirate."

* * *

Apparently, the same thing happened to every other Country that day. After knocking Arthur unconscious, England tied him to a chair, and quickly called the others to make sure they were alright.

"_I knocked him out, don't worry," _America said. "_I threw him down a flight of stairs into the basement. I might just keep him in there; put a reinforced steel door on with dozens of locks and a security system in there just in case."_

"That sounds like a good idea," England nodded, looking at Arthur. "Why don't you call up some of the others and I'll do the same; tell them your idea and we'll all do it."

"_Got it."_

And with that the called ended and the plan of locking _them_ in everyone's basements commenced.

* * *

**End Notes: **Yep, this is the one thing that popped into my mind at midnight the other night that was worth writing. If you don't understand yet, the Human names are used for the 2P! And the Country names are used for 1P!

I hope you all liked it :)

-Mighty-


	2. Player Two has Arrived: Italy and Romano

**Note:** _Whoo~ Eight reviews? I can't believe you guys like this so much! and all the Alerts and faves? So many! I love you all! :)  
_

**Chapter Two:**_ Player Two has Arrived- Italy and Romano_

* * *

_*Ding-Dong*_

Italy remembered the day Feliciano and Lovino showed up on his and Romano's doorstep. Romano hadn't been home at the time; he was spending the day with Spain and wouldn't be home till later that day. Hearing the doorbell ring, Italy found it odd knowing Romano wouldn't be home this early; in another hour or two sure but, that's beside the point.

Upon opening the door, Italy came face to face with…_himself? _

"_Ciao,_ are you Italy?" The other Italy smiled. "My name is Feliciano and I am your Second Player."

Italy let Feliciano inside and once the Second Player moved, Italy saw that standing behind him was Romano.

"_Fratello, _your home early! How was your day with _Spagna?" _

Feliciano chuckled. "He's not your _Fratello, _he's _mine._"

Italy turned to face his copy. "What do you mean?"

"His name is Lovino and he's the Second Player to Romano."

* * *

Romano came home a few hours later and to his surprise, saw that there were two more people sitting at the dinner table than usual.

What was more surprising was that one of them wasn't the Potato Bastard or his idiot of a brother.

"Romano, we have guests! Wash up and hurry back down so I can introduce you!" Italy smiled happily and sent his brother up stairs.

Once in the bathroom, Romano let out a sigh. He and Italy weren't expecting any Countries; they did have a meeting with America and what's his name just north of the Hamburger Bastard but, that wasn't for a few weeks. So then, who was in their home then?

Shaking his head, the Italian dried his hands and made his way back downstairs. As soon as he stepped foot in the kitchen, Romano was guided over to the table by his brother and finally got a good glimpse at who exactly was in his house.

It was himself.

"Is this a joke?" He asked, pointing to copy on the other side of the table. "Veneziano, please tell me that I'm not looking at myself."

"Okay, you're not."

"Good because I thought I was going crazy there for a-WAIT, THEN WHO THE HELL IS THAT THEN?"

Italy shrunk back in fear at his brother's outburst. "_F-fratello, _that," he pointed to the other Romano, "is Lovino."

Romano growled. "Why the hell does he look like me?"

"Because, I'm your Second Player."

"You're my what?"

Lovino smiled. "I'm your Second Player. I'm an exact copy of you except, I'm not exactly _you_."

"_Si, _just like I'm not exactly like Italy," Feliciano said stepping into the kitchen. "_Ciao, _I'm your brother's Second Player. You may call me Feliciano."

For ten minutes, Romano sputtered like an idiot in response to Feliciano's request. Italy sat him down and placed a hot plate of pasta in front of him.

"Eat; everything will make more sense soon."

And it did.

Days went by and Romano learned more and more about the Second Players. They were right; they were not exactly like the Italian Brother's. It seemed Feliciano was more courageous than Italy and was willing to put up a fight rather than run away like a dog with its tail between its legs.

And then there was Lovino.

He was so much ditsier than Romano which annoyed the Southern Italian greatly. Lovino was like a carbon copy of Italy, not himself personality wise. If anything, he wished his Second Player had the personality of Feliciano and not some mixture of Spain and his brother.

But Romano put up with Lovino for a few more months, that is, until the faithful day everything went wrong.

* * *

The World Meeting went horribly, as usual. Romano sulked back into the house, kicking off his shoes and hurrying to the bathroom. Italy followed suit, rushing into his room and throwing his briefcase on his bed.

"Ve~ Feliciano! Lovino! We're home!"

"_Chi_ their probably with that Potato Bastards Player, like they said they would be before we left," Romano huffed, shaking off his suit jacket.

Italy nodded. "Oh, right! I must have forgotten."

"You always forget."

After changing into more comfortable clothing, the two decided that it was due time for a _siesta_ and hopped into the bed they shared.

Everything was peaceful for the first hour.

Then, there was a loud crash.

Italy didn't seem to have awaked from the loud noise but, Romano woke right up; sitting straight up and glaring at the door. Sensing his brother's movement, Italy groggily woke up.

"What's wrong Romano?"

"You didn't hear the crash?" Romano asked. Italy shook his head.

"No, are you sure you didn't just dream it?"

Romano nodded. "I'm pretty damn sure." Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Romano stood and made his way to the door. "Stay here, I'm going to check it out."

On his way downstairs, Romano picked up a frying pan that Hungary left last time she visited from the guest room. Taking a few test swings, Romano nodded and decided that it was now or never.

Wielding the pan, the Italian snuck into the living room. No one was there so, he went into the kitchen. Taking a few steps in, Romano suddenly felt like he was being watched and turned around; grinning widely at his was Feliciano. In his hands, butcher knives.

"_Ciao _Romano, how was your _siesta?"_

Before he could respond though, an arm was wrapped around his waist and a hand placed over his mouth. Romano couldn't help but panic as a breathy voice entered his ears.

"_Ci dicono, dov'è tuo fratello?"_

Romano scowled. How dare they! Both him and Veneziano had been nothing but nice to the two of them and this is how they repair them? Shaking his head, Romano managed to shake of Lovino's hand from his mouth.

"I'm not tell you _Bastardos _anything!"

Feliciano stepped forward. "Then I guess we'll have to do this the hard way. _Fratello, _get the rope."

* * *

In the end, Italy came rushing down the stairs once he heard Romano's pleas for help. He found his brother tied to one of the kitchen chairs; blood poured from his nose and down the corners of his mouth. There were cuts along his arms and chest; all profoundly bleeding.

"V-Veneziano...Run..." Romano coughed, blood splattered the floor. "G-get help..."

"Oh, I don't think that's such a good idea. You'll stay right here _Italia, _do you understand?"

Wide eyed, Italy turned around and saw Feliciano standing behind him with two bloodied knives in his hands. "You wouldn't want to end up like your _Fratello _here, now would you? Well, you will soon but that's beside the point."

"W-why did you hurt Romano?" Italy asked; he looked to be on the verge of crying. "He did nothing to hurt you!"

"Ah, your are correct. He did nothing to harm us but, you see, you two stand in the way of something we want." Feliciano circled Italy; he examined his knives and cleaned off the blood on his pants.

"And that is?"

Feliciano stopped. He glared at Italy and for the first time, the Country realized how different they actually were.

"Immortality."

* * *

_"Are you alright?"_

_"__Si, _I managed to knock both of them out and tied them both to chairs. I moved Romano to the couch; I still have to tend to his wounds."

"_Alright, I'll leave you too that then. And remember the plan I told you about."__  
_

Italy paused and looked over to the two unconscious Second Players next to him. After and intense stare down with Feliciano, Italy ended up stepping on the frying pan that Romano dropped sometime before being captured. With a lucky swing, he hit Feliciano on the head just as the other lunged at him with the knives and, it didn't take too long to knock Lovino unconscious; all Italy had to do was sneak up behind him and with a loud crack, the other was on the ground.

Italy quickly untied Romano and moved him to the couch. After that, he picked up the Second Players, used the rope that they had to tie up Romano and himself and, tied them up. For an extra measure, he hit them again before calling Germany.

_"I can't believe I'm saying this but, for once I can actually say that there was a time where you were brave. I'm proud of you Italy."_

Italy smiled.

"_Grazie."_


End file.
